Violins, Dancing, and other Debauchery
by OurLordandSaviorMoose
Summary: These are just fluffy little Sherlolly one-shots. They're all connected, but they may not be correct timeline-wise, so just keep that in mind. Some of these stories are a little more risque than others so it's just an over all M. This is my first fic and I don't want to get banned for rating it wrong. Well, I just learned I stink at summaries so... enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't own any of the characters(Obviously ;)). All of these characters belong to BBC. Although the way they treat them, they need to be taken away and loved on until the writers can learn to play nicely.

Anyways, inspiration struck and here's the final product! It takes place after TFP and Molly and Sherlock have already gotten the whole "I love you" thing sorted out, just to give the fandom a little break. I know Sherlock is written a little differently, but I figured he'd be a tad bit more sensitive after Eurus. It's just a fluffy one-shot for now, I don't know if I'll actually turn into a whole story but…

This is my first fanfiction and I'm a little nervous so, eek! Please be a dear and review!

* * *

Sherlock opened the door to 221B and was greeted by the sound of loud violin music floating down from upstairs.

"Mrs. Hudson!" She poked her head around the corner. "What is that?" She simply shrugged her shoulders and disappeared around the corner again. Sherlock had detected some flour on her sleeve and a drop of dark batter on the corner of her mouth and smiled. She was making her famous chocolate cake. As if to prove his theory, the oven beeped and he heard Mrs. Hudson scuttle over to it, letting the chocolate scent waft through the flat as she opened it.

As he climbed up the stairs the music got louder. _Molly._ He realised. _She's home early._ He opened the door and froze, grin plastered on his face at the scene in front of him.

Molly had moved the furniture back and was dancing to the music. She hadn't noticed him yet, her eyes closed and a look of bliss on her face. He watched as she threw her arms out and head back with the climax and, pulling her arms in, spun. She stopped abruptly, putting her foot down and moved her shoulders up and down with the rise and fall of the notes.

This went on for another minute, Sherlock mesmerized by her movements, until the song came to an end and Molly finally opened her eyes.

"Sherlock!" She started, and her already flushed face became even more red. "How long have you been standing there?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know! You know everything!" He knew she was just yelling because he startled her, but it still made his face fall. It brought back memories of when he first saw her after Sherrinford. The conversation hadn't been very quiet on her part, to say the least.

 _You humiliated me! Used me as an experiment!_

He shook he thought out of his head and pushed down the lump he could feel starting to form in his throat. When had he become so susceptible to things like this?

"Sorry, um, I wasn't paying attention to the time. Maybe two minutes?"

Molly walked over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. "Well at least take off your coat."

He cleared his throat and shrugged off his coat, hanging it up by the door. He smiled slightly as he climbed over the couch. "What um, what were you listening to?" He knew of every great composer, but had yet to hear that style. He scoured his mental library once again as Molly took a long drink.

"It's this new violinist. I'm sure you've heard of her."

"Nope"

"Seriously? You need to listen to one of her songs. I think she may even rival you!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Oh, the famous Sherlock Holmes finally has some competition." Molly came close to him, putting her hands on his chest and wiggling her eyebrows.

"Nonsense." He refused to make eye contact, looking up at the ceiling.

"Are you sure you're not just je-" He cut her off with kiss, expecting her to melt into it, forgetting about this "competition" and was rewarded with a slap on the hand. He pulled back quickly with and confused and somewhat hurt look. Had she started to regret their physical relationship? Did he hurt her? He scoured her face, searching for signs of disgust or hatred or regret. He let out a small sigh when she didn't move from his chest.

"Sherlock Holmes! That was rude! And if you wanted a kiss you should've gotten it before you started ogling me."

He opened his mouth to explain how interrupting her dancing would've just made her even more upset, but decided against it and apologized.

"Thank you. How was the case? You texted and said you'd be home late. You said it was an eight." Molly walked over to a chair that was now by the kitchen.

He was debating whether or not to tell her he was actually going to get supplies for a romantic diner and movie night. _Better save it for another night._ "It turned out to be a four at best" He lied, walking over and moving Molly to his lap. "Can I have a kiss now?"

"You've got to work for it." Molly smirked at him, making his head fill with possibilities. Last time he agreed to something like this, he ended up with an adhesive keeping his mouth shut chasing Molly, who had his glue removal, around the flat.

Sherlock sighed, "What do you want."

Molly smiled and pulled out her phone, "Just one song. Please?"

"Then I get a kiss?"

"Then you can have all the kisses you want." She confirmed.

He quirked an eyebrow, "Promise?"

"Mmmhmmmm" She drew it out as she put her face so close her nose almost touched his. "But no tricks or I'm moving back upstairs."

Sherlock hated that threat. She had done it, too, and it took all of his begging to get her back downstairs. She finally came down after two days of torture and a promise that next time she wasn't coming back. "By the way," He whispered, "Where'd you learn to move like that?"

Molly hummed, "Maybe I'll show you sometime."

Sherlock growled. He pulled at her hips until she was straddling him. "Molly…"

The cold glass of her phone pressed against mouth and he whimpered. He hated how she could make him need her with just one sentence. What happened to the time when he could make her turn red and run with just a glance and a smirk?

"No tricks." She whispered.

He sighed and shoved her off. "Fine. Play the song."

Molly smiled at him as she tapped her phone and gave it to him once the video started playing. The music was something he had never heard before; the violin was usually a classical instrument, but the way she played made Sherlock tap his foot slightly. It was modern and fast.

"I knew you'd like it!" Molly squealed and clapped her hands.

"No! It's ridiculous and too...electronic." He shut off the device and threw it across the room onto the other chair. "I listened to it, now I get my kiss." He strode across the room and grabbed Molly's waist, smashing his mouth onto hers. A jolt of pleasure shot through him as he heard her gasp. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her through his door, never breaking the kiss.

~o.0.o~

Molly stepped out of the cab and stretched her back. Bending over corpses all day always made her stiff. As she walked through the door of 221B Baker Street, she found Mrs. Hudson giggling wildly as she carefully tip-toed down the stairs.

"Everything okay?" Molly couldn't help but smile, it was contagious.

"Of course dear, but I think you ought to go upstairs." She walked back to her room laughing even louder.

Molly crept up the stairs quietly, pressed her ear to the door and heard Sherlock playing his violin. The song sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it. She opened the door slowly, not wanting to disturb him. Rarely did he play such an upbeat song. After Sherrinford, his most frequent choice was _Requiem Mass,_ "in D minor", as he reminded her constantly. She poked her head into the flat and immediately covered her mouth to silence the giggles.

Sherlock was dancing! He was playing a song by the violinist she introduced him to and dancing! Molly watched as he jutted his hips side to side and kicked up his leg behind him, slowly dragging it on the floor. _So_ this _is why watching me was so entertaining._ Her eyes followed him as he mimicked the moves of the violinist. Molly's eyes shone with tears of laughter as he continued strutting around the room, spinning and leaping. He rolled his hips and played a trill with ease, proving he had done this many times. Sherlock turned and froze, meeting Molly's gaze. She finally removed her hand and laughed.

"It's for a case!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah, right. And what case is that?" Molly walked in and closed the door behind her.

"The case of the… Oh where's John when you need him!" Sherlock threw up his hands, almost whacking Molly with his bow. "Sorry." He put the violin down.

"No worries, It wouldn't be the first time and I certainly hope it won't be the last." She insinuated, wanting to ravish in his embarrassment and vulnerability. "Sherlock Holmes are you blushing?"

"No"

"I think I see some pink!"

"That's from dancing."

"Then you must've been dancing for a while, because you sir, are red."

"Yes, that's it." She saw him wince slightly as he realised what he confessed.

"Then it's not for a case?"

He sighed, "No."

"What's that?"

"No it is not for a case."

"Then why were you doing it?" Molly smiled, knowing she had successfully backed him into a corner.

"Because I like the music and dancing is fun."

"Aha! I knew you liked it! I was right!" She sang over and over, dancing very ungracefully."I was right! I was right!"

"What on earth are you doing?"

"It's my victory dance!" She bumped him with her hip.

"Well stop."

"Make me." Molly continued to shake her booty, knowing what Sherlock was going to do next. He scooped her up and threw her down on the couch.

"I've had enough of that." He mounted her, pinning her shoulders down, and kissed her softly. Molly tried to deepen the kiss, but he backed away and kept her shoulders pinned. She arched her back, trying to get closer and Sherlock took the opportunity to lightly drag his finger down it. He smiled when she squealed. "No tricks." he whispered. He nipped at her ear and got up off the couch.

"Sherlock." Molly closed her eyes and let out a frustrated huff.

"I'm going out." Sherlock announced. He pulled on his coat and scarf and walked out of the flat, leaving Molly on the couch trying to calm herself down. That man.

* * *

A/N II: I'm probably going to do the dinner and a movie scene next. If you have any requests or recommendations, let me know.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This is the romantic dinner and a movie Sherlock was planning for Molly.

I'm sorry it takes so long to upload chapters, and thank you to all of you who put up with the wait. I'm writing these as I go along, so after each update, I write the next chapter. Thanks for your patience! Please review!

Sherlock stepped out of the cab and grimaced at the crowded store. _Molly, I'm doing this for Molly._ The door to the grocery store never stayed closed more than a few seconds. _Maybe she wouldn't mind takeout. It is the romance after all, not the food that counts, right?_ He took a deep breath and walked in.

~o.0.o~

John heard his phone beep and he put down Rosie. "That'll be your Aunt Harry. Probably canceling her stay with us, again." He pulled out his phone, "Oh! It's your Godfather." Rosie shook a toy in response.

 **I need you to stall Molly. Keep her out of the flat. -SH**

 **Sure. Any particular reason? -JW**

 **No.**

John sighed and put down the phone. "Bit too quick wasn't it?" Rosie gurgled and smiled. John chuckled, "Come 'ere kiddo." He hoisted Rosie back onto his lap and continued the book Sherlock had interrupted.

~o.0.o~

"OH SHUT UP!" Sherlock shouted at the smoke detector. "BEEP BEEP BEEP!" It shouted back. Sherlock coughed as the smoke and steam shrouded his face, but that didn't keep him from smelling the burnt pork chops. He cursed as he opened the oven. The cranberry reduction boiled over and sizzled onto the stove. He cursed again. "BEEP BEEP BE-" Sherlock viciously tore the smoke detector from the ceiling, leaving it hanging by a wire. "Little better." He stood and surveyed the scene. "Maybe takeout would be best." Toby, who had moved in along with Molly, meowed and rubbed against his leg. Sherlock tore off a piece of a burnt-on-the-outside-raw-on-the-inside porkchop and set it down by Toby. "She'll never know the difference, right?"

~o.0.o~

"Thanks for coming on such short notice Molly." John handed off Rosie. "I should only be about an hour. I just want to keep her home, she's a little flushed." "Sure thing! She's no problem, are you sweethart? No you're not! No you're not you cutie pie!" John smiled at Molly and Rosie as he left.

~o.0.o~

Sherlock glanced at the number one more time and punched it into the phone. "Yes hello. Is this Minatoni's? Great." He glanced at the smoking pile of dishes in the sink and on the counter.

~o.0.o~

John was about to knock when the smell of smoke hit him. "Sherlock!" He didn't bother knocking and burst through the door of 221B. "Sherlock what's going- What the- Sherlock?" He looked around the flat at the mess. John coughed and opened the windows.

"John." Sherlock walked out of his room wearing a half-buttoned, untucked indigo shirt and black pants. "I don't recall asking you to come over."

"Yeah, you didn't. I wanted to see if you needed anything. And if you want me to lie to Molly for you, you better have a good reason." John wafted some more smoke out of the window.

"I think you just wafted a cloud full of reason out the window." Sherlock walked back into his room and shut the door. John turned to find the source of the smoke and his eyes landed on a charred cookbook. "Holmes." He smiled and walked over to clean up the mess.

~o.0.o~

Sherlock walked out of the bathroom, clean and pristine as always, and buttoned his suit jacket. "John?" The flat was quiet. "Hello?" The smell of smoke was gone. He walked into the immaculate kitchen and found the food he had ordered a while ago sitting on the counter next to a note.

Treat her right mate.

Sherlock smiled and looked at the table. John had set it for two and there was a candle he didn't even know he had. There was a movie on one of the plates. He picked it up and sighed, a sappy romantic movie with a heart on the cover. Sherlock pulled out his phone.

 **Thank you John. -SH**

~o.0.o~

John pulled out his phone and read Sherlock's text. "Anytime." He turned his phone off and returned his attention to the spoonful of baby food. "Open up! It's the airplane!"

~o.0.o~

Molly pulled a baby toy out of her pocket as she walked into the flat. "I'll have to return this next time I see John."

"Please don't mention another man as it quite ruins the mood." Molly started and looked up.

"Oh! Sherlock! What is this!" She looked at the table and found it set with a leg of lamb and vegetable stir fry. "This is- well it- it's-"

"Unbelievable? Romantic? Impressive?"

"Incredibly sexy!" Molly dropped her bag, shrugged off her coat and rushed over to Sherlock.

"But dinn-"

"Oh shut up I know you ordered takeout." She claimed Sherlock's mouth and stopped him from asking how. Molly ran her fingers in his hair. She smiled against his neck as her tongue drew out a low, guttural moan. Molly pushed on his shoulders until he started to walk backwards towards his bedroom, then she got to work on his shirt.

"This is progressing faster than I thought." Sherlock said in a low voice. Molly shivered as he ran his hands up her back. Sherlock spun her and threw her down on the bed.

"Sherlock…"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So I was thinking, "What if Molly was the annoying git and Sherlock was the concerned partner?" Here we go! By the way, please review!

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"Sherlock? I'm going to run down the the store and grab a few things. Do you need anything?" Molly walked out of the bedroom while putting up her hair. Sherlock had deduced she was about to start her menstrual cycle and had begun searching up symptoms. Nausea, cramps, mood swings. He'll probably just lock himself somewhere.

"No, I'm good." He found another article. "Thanks." He added at the last minute. Just in case his predictions were off by a day.

~o.0.o~

"Sherlock?" A sleepy Molly trudged out of their room, "Will you make us some brownies?" Sherlock looked up from his phone.

"Us?" He lifted his computer and turned off his phone just as Molly fell on his lap and curled into a ball. This must be the first day of her cycle.

"Okay, me. Can you make _me_ some brownies?" She looked up at him with her big, brown eyes. Almost, Sherlock noted, on the cusp of a breakdown. _Or tantrum._ He watched her fiddle with the silver band on her ring finger.

He sighed, "Alright. I'll make you some brownies." He tried to get up, but Molly refused to budge. "Molly, I need to get up if you want some brownies." Nothing but a whining moan in response. Realising what he had to do, he lifted her up and placed her back in the chair when he stood up. He was rewarded by a thankful grunt.

~o.0.o~

"Sherlock!" Molly pounded on the bedroom door, "Sherlock let me in right now!" Sherlock cowered in the back of the room. So much for locking himself in his room. _Our room._ He reminded himself. It was quiet on the other side of the door.

"Molly?" A loud sob echoed through the room. "Molly! What's wrong!" He opened the door and found Molly sitting on the floor crying. Sherlock crouched down beside her. "What's wrong?" He said in a gentler tone.

"If you want me to move back upstairs," Molly's words were interrupted by hiccups and choked-back sobs, "Then I will. I'm sorry I thought that just because we were married we could share a room." She sniffed.

"No no! Molly don't be ridiculous!" He cringed on that last syllable and braced for attack.

"Ridiculous?!"

~o.0.o~

"Sherlock!" Sherlock whipped his head up and watched the bedroom door. He set down the kettle and waited, never shifting his gaze. Silence. BAM! The door flew open and Molly stormed out. "What. The. HELL is this?!" She shook the small trash can with each word. Every shake caused pieces of trash to fall to the floor.

"I-It's a tr-trash can?" Sherlock tried to slowly move the hot kettle out of sight. Last time Sherlock replied to one of her questions, she threw the closest thing to her at his head. Luckily, the hefty photo album only hit his shoulder. He touched the sore spot lightly in remembrance. Molly dropped the trash can and stomped over to the couch, messy bun bobbing as she walked, and flopped down. "Do you want any-"

"I want sugar donuts!" She yelled from the other side of the couch. Sherlock heard a thump followed by a long moan.

"Molly?" Sherlock carefully crept over to the couch and peered over. "You okay?" This was the third day of Molly's menstrual cycle. It was also the first time Molly had been over while she was on her cycle. Of course, she couldn't really go anywhere anymore seeing as this is where she lived now. "Sweetheart?" Sherlock walked over slowly to crouch by Molly who was lying face down and moaning.

She rolled over, held her stomach and shouted, "SUGAR DONUTS WITH CHOCOLATE SYRUP!" Sherlock scrambled away. "And next time empty the friggin' trash can!" She shouted as Sherlock fled out the door to get sugar donuts.

~o.0.o~

"Sherlock," Molly whined with tears in her eyes, "I need a hug." It was the fifth and, Sherlock hoped, last day of her cycle. She stumbled over to him and practically fell into his arms.

"This might not be the best time, but I've got to go out for a very important case." He looked down at the messy mop of hair that was Molly Hooper. "Molly? Hey." Sherlock shifted the limp body in his arms and picked her up bridal-style. He laughed as her head rolled back and a loud snore escaped from her slightly open mouth.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry this took so long! Life happened and it took a bit to get to this. Thank you for being so patient. Another big thank you to all the lovely reviews and followers!

* * *

Sherlock turned off his phone and turned towards the kitchen. "Molly," She looked up from her tea, "It's come to my attention that many people are aware of your importance to me. Moriarty may have missed that, but Eurus did not and I doubt the next one will either."

"What are you getting at Sherlock?" Molly set down her cup and walked over to him. "And what was that about me being important to you?" She slid her hands over his shoulders. Sherlock's head tried to get focused but his mind kept wandering back to where Molly's hands were.

He cleared his throat. "Molly, please." He whimpered internally as her hands slid off him. "As I was saying, I want to teach you self-defence."

Molly nodded slowly, "Alright."

Sherlock could smell her shampoo as she hadn't moved away. "Alright. Can we start now?" His mind started plotting how to turn this self-defence lesson into a make-out session. Images flashed through his head. _No._ He needed to do this for Molly.

"Can't, I'll be late for work." Molly's voice penetrated his fantasy. She was looking up at him expectantly.

"Right. After?" Sherlock knew her schedule was clear, but he had learned to ask. Molly nodded and walked back to her tea.

~o.0.o~

Sherlock looked around the room in satisfaction. He had pushed all the furniture back so there would be space to move and tumble. Molly walked through the door and sighed. "Sherlock, not tonight please. It's been a really long day." He looked at her. Five autopsies and a lot of paperwork. Filing, most likely.

"It'll only take a few minutes." She didn't look like she would give in. "Please." He added for good measure.

Molly's shoulders fell, "Alright." She trudged over to him.

"Let's do a light practice run and see how much you know." Molly nodded. "Don't worry if you don't know how, I'll go easy." Sherlock noted a fiery glint in her eyes as he said that. "Molly, is there something you're not telling me?"

"Nope. Absolutely nothing." Faint warning bells sounded in the back of his head.

"Alright, I'm going to come at you and put you in a headlock. Let's see how you do." Sherlock lunged at her and wrapped his arm around her neck. A blow to his stomach caused him to stumble backwards. Molly had elbowed him in the stomach? He looked down at her and found her smiling. He went to lunge at her again, a little harder. Molly wrapped her arms around his sides and used his momentum to throw him on the couch. She landed on top of him and pinned his legs down with hers and held his wrists to the couch. Sherlock winced as she dug her knees into his gut. "Molly Hooper you little liar."

She came down close to his face. "I _did_ tell you I had three older brothers. I had to defend myself somehow right?" She smirked, "I thought you would've deduced that by now. I'm a little disappointed." Blood rushed to his middle. "Oh, Sherlock does this turn you on? Because I've got to say, seeing you under my control is very alluring." What is she doing to him? He let out a slight whimper. Molly chuckled, "Do you need something?"

"Bedroom." Sherlock managed to croak.

"Why not here?" Molly moved down and undid the top button with her teeth.

"H-how?" Sherlock breathed shakily. Molly just hummed and moved to the next button. "Molly.." She opened the third button and trailed her lips back up to his mouth. "I thought you were tired." Molly pushed her knees down in response.

~o.0.o~

Sherlock held the door to the morgue open for Molly as John nodded at them from the doorway. Sherlock smirked as Molly winced slightly when she lowered herself down into her seat. He had made her pay for that little takedown last night. John started to look like he was formulating a question.

"So," Sherlock said before John could ask, "coffee then."

John held up a finger, "I've got it here." He lifted a cardboard drink holder. "Black, two sugars." He handed it to Sherlock, "Vanilla caramel latte." Molly thanked him and took a sip. "And this is mine" He took the last steaming cup and threw the holder in the trash. Sherlock detected the top-half of a number peaking out from under the cup sleeve. Must've been the barista.

Molly stretched and whimpered. "I'm so sore!"

John cocked his head at her, "What did you do?" Sherlock looked at Molly, slightly panicked, and she looked right back. Her face turned red and she took a long drink of her coffee. "Oh my word. Forget I even asked." John walked away and pretended to examine some papers.

"We worked on Molly's self-defence." Sherlock cleared his throat.

"Don't even try, Holmes. I know-that," He gestured to the two of them, "when I see it." John refused to make eye contact. Sherlock just smirked behind his cup while he sipped his coffee.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! This is just something I tried to write in time for Tuesday, but it's a bit late. Big thanks to **SilviaGreyback** and **SammyKatz** for their ever-so-lovely reviews!

"Please Sherlock!" Molly looked at him with her big brown eyes. "Please! Look at his face! Look at it!" She clasped her hands together. "I'm begging you!"

"No Molly. I'm sorry but you don't need another cat." Sherlock didn't even look up from his phone. "I let you drag me into this shelter with a promise that you wouldn't get another pet. You said you just wanted to catch up with a friend who works here." Sherlock looked at Molly. "And now that I hear myself say that outloud, I realise how stupid I've been."

Molly giggled and picked up the grey kitten. "But Toby's lonely and look how cute he is!" As if on cue, the kitten started mewing. "Awww!" She started to speak gibberish to the kitten that was now clinging to her shirt.

"No. Absolutely not. If you ask one more time to bring that cat home, Toby will become an outside cat. Permanently." Sherlock took the grey nuisance off Molly and held him in front of his face. "Get your own woman. This one's mine." He glanced over to Molly who, even though disappointed, smiled at his comment. He put the cat back and took Molly's hand. "Let's go before you find a horse you want to take home."

"About that…"

"Molly!"

~o.0.o~

Sherlock sat on his chair, going through his mind palace for inspiration. If he was going to do this, he was going to do this right. He searched for her favorite color, her favorite foods, her favorite music. Nothing came to mind that screamed "Molly". He could do better than just getting on his knee and asking. The door opened and John walked in. "Sherlock, I got your text. Are you really proposing to Molly?"

"Yes John. What would be the point of sending that text if I didn't really need help figuring out how to propose to Molly?" He didn't even open his eyes.

"Molly Hooper?"

"Yes. Is something surprising about that? We've been together for six months and fourteen days. Do you not agree that it is time?" This time Sherlock opened his eyes and looked over at John. "Besides, Molly insists she won't have sex outside of wedlock. A very annoying insistence since she can be quite the tease."

"Sherlock!" John pinched the bridge of his nose. "I did _not_ need to know that."

"Then don't ask."

"I didn't-" John sighed, "Never mind. What do you need help with?"

"I need to find a way to propose to Molly Hooper that isn't all… mushy gushy, so to speak." Sherlock stood up and went to make himself some tea. "Care for a cuppa?"

"No, thank you. I've got a few images to purge from my mind before I can put anything in my stomach." John walked over to the open computer and viewed the tabs Sherlock had open snorted. "Holmes, you cannot propose to Molly Hooper by putting a ring in a corpse she's doing an autopsy on! I get it, you both aren't into 'mushy gushy' stuff, as you so eloquently put it, but it's a marriage proposal! You're not asking her to prom!"

"What is the difference? I've seen these 'promposals' and they look a lot more riveting than a traditional marriage proposal."

"Just no. You can do something a little different but please, please, I'm begging you be sensible!"

"Sensible is exactly what I'm being, John. I will get Molly and she will get a story to tell."

"You know, your facts and logic can really be a nuisance sometimes."

"Shut up! Shut up and let me think!" Sherlock searched through his mind palace. Something had been triggered. His eyes snapped open. "That's it!"

~o.0.o~

Molly set down the cup as she heard footsteps approach the door. Sherlock walked in but didn't take off his coat. "Where have you been Sherlock? You said you'd be home at noon. It's one thirty."

"Sorry dear, I've been shopping." There was a glint in his eyes and a smirk on his lips that caused Molly to smile. She eyes a bulge squirming in the breast pocket of his coat.

"Sherlock?" He simply smiled and motioned for Molly to turn around. She did as she was told and felt his presence looming behind her. A soft mew reached her ear and a squeal escaped her as Molly whipped around with a large grin on her face.

"I named him Nuisance. What do you think?" Sherlock held the tiny grey kitten from the pound out to Molly.

"Oh he is just the cutest-" Molly's brows furrowed. "What's this?" She fingered the light blue ribbon and turned it around his neck until a flash of silver caught her eye. She gasped loudly. "Sherlock?" She continued to twist it until the silver band was sitting on top.

She looked up at Sherlock. "Molly Hooper, will you marry me?" He looked down at her with eyes full of love and hope.

"Molly's own eyes were now being filled with tears. "Yes!" She managed to choke out. "Yes! Yes Sherlock!" Tears streamed down her face and the kitten managed to jump to the floor before Molly lunged towards Sherlock. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. She immediately backed away and blushed at her forwardness. No matter how long they'll be together, she will always have a little mousey Molly Hooper in her.

"I love you." Sherlock placed his forehead on hers.

"I love you too."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I found this prompt and ran with it. Let me know what you think! Thank you so much for your reviews! They really mean alot to me. Sorry for such a short chapter, I was really excited writing this and I can be a very impatient writer. Please review!

Molly had been on the phone with her cousin for almost two hours. Sherlock sighed and clanged a few things around in the kitchen to get her attention. She didn't even look at him. He sighed even louder and plopped down on the chair. He opened his computer and typed furiously, not trying to write anything in particular. Sherlock closed the computer and an idea popped into his head. He rushed back into his room and slammed the door.

~o.0.o~

Molly's cousin was talking about her new car when Sherlock finally came out of the room. He stood in front of her, casting a shadow over her and Toby. She looked up to find he was wearing his tight purple shirt that Molly swore he bought a size too small on purpose. Sherlock wiggled his eyebrows and smirked at her. Molly attempted to cut her cousin off but there seemed to be no opening. "Chels- Hey, lis-" Chelsey continued to go on about the touch-screen radio. She loved her cousin but sometimes she could get carried away. Sherlock slinked forward and slid onto her lap. "Sherlock!" Molly said frustratedly in a hoarse whisper. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and ran his fingers up through her hair. A shiver ran through her and she bit back a gasp as he ran a trail of suckling kisses down her jawline. Her cousin kept rambling on about the leather seats. Sherlock finally made his way up to her mouth and swallowed any sounds that would've alerted Molly's cousin. He went back down to her neck and Molly was able to whisper without her cousin hearing. "Sherlock Holmes I swear I will strangle you."

"Looking forward to it." Sherlock purred.

"Molly? You still there?" Chelsey's voice caused Molly to jump.

"Yeah, hey, sorry. I was-um-well-" Molly stuttered as she searched for an explanation. "I've got to go." She hung up the phone and threw it in the direction of the couch. She ran her fingers through Sherlock's curls, pulling his head back and exposing his neck. She traced a finger

down it, feeling his pulse. "I believe I promised to strangle you." Molly murmured.

"Does it have to be my neck?" Sherlock chuckled, his voice deep and husky.

"I would never bruise such a beautiful feature." Molly's nose barely touched his neck as she nuzzled him softly, kissing occasionally here and there. Sherlock hummed with approval and stood. Molly looked up, surprised. "Sherlock?"

He looked down at her and flashed a wicked grin. "Care for some lunch? I promised John _we_ would meet him at the cafe in," He looked at the time on his phone, "ten minutes." He strode over to his room to change again. Before he closed the door, he poked his head out. "Next time, don't ignore me. You know now what I'm capable of Molly Hooper."

Molly puffed out some air. He knew saying her full name like that turned her on. _That's the point Molly._ She scolded herself. She got up and went to the bathroom to freshen up.

~o.0.o~

All through lunch, Sherlock had his hand on Molly's thigh. He would circle his thumb every now and then, sending a jolt of warmth between her legs and making her extremely uncomfortable. "Everything okay Molly?" Sherlock looked over at her with pure innocence on his face. He slid his hand up and pinched her lightly.

"Fine." She managed to squeak.

"You sure? You do look a bit out of it." John, sweet, innocent John, looked at her. His eyebrows knit in concern.

"Just peachy." Okay, that sounded a little too cheery, even for her. "Really," she cleared her throat, "I'm fine. I promise." Sherlock's fingers danced along the edge of her knickers. Why on earth did she think it was a good idea to wear a skirt? _Because,_ Molly thought to herself, _you knew this was going to happen. You wanted this to happen._ She managed to discreetly jab him in the ribs. He took this as an invitation to slide his fingers under knickers completely and rub his thumb in circles again. She was trapped. The thought of getting caught sent a fresh wave of heat down her body. If this was going to happen, she might as well enjoy it. She knew she wanted this and so did he. She pressed her hips slightly against his thumb. Sherlock immediately pulled away and Molly bit back a whimper. After a few minutes of polite conversation, Sherlock resumed his original pursuit. Molly had learned her lesson and tried not to move. He pressed down harder but not in the right spot. He knew this. He was teasing her. Molly gripped the booth with one hand. After a few more minutes of teasing, John made a comment about having to pick up Rosie and Sherlock finally slid one finger over her pleasure spot and circled it a few times before retreating and pulling a napkin down to clean his hand.

"Yes well, you do that. I've got some things to do and Molly needs to pop by the store." Sherlock stood.

"I do?" Molly whispered, following suit. John almost looked startled at the abrupt change in attitude.

"Yes. We need milk." Sherlock slid his hand over her bum. "And don't forget." He patted her twice and walked outside to hail a taxi. Molly had a feeling the milk wasn't what she was supposed to remember.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Don't mind me, just being a genius over here. If you review you get a cookie! ;) BTW, go check out Fandomunicornss. She helped me come up with this fabulous story! (And I promise this is the only time I'll promote anyone.) Sorry for the wait, we had to take an emergency trip and I forgot my computer. Thanks for your patience!

* * *

Sherlock knew this day would eventually come. Molly had begged and begged and he finally caved. "Come on Sherlock! We don't want to get there too late or the ice will be all bumpy." Sherlock closed his laptop and grudgingly got up out of his chair. Molly stood at the door with her ice skates over her shoulder, all bundled up against the cold. "Come on, you promised!" Sherlock mumbled a few things under his breath and snatched his coat from Molly. He pulled on his gloves and did up his scarf. He ushered her outside and hailed a cab.

~o.0.o~

They pulled up to the rink and Sherlock made a face at all the people who were gliding and falling alike. He was determined to be better. He had researched everything about ice skating and had it down to science. It didn't matter that he had never actually set foot on ice, he knew he would be a natural. Molly pulled him along, weaving through crowds and found an empty bench. "Wait here, I'll get your rental skates." She walked off, disappearing into the crowds.

A few moments later, she reappeared with a pair of clunky skates in her hands. Sherlock frowned when Molly handed them to him. She ignored him and pulled her own skates on. "Molly, I refuse to wear something sixty two, no, wait, sixty five other people have worn today alone."

"There's no possible way you could know exactly how many people have worn those. Stop trying to show off." Molly finished doing up her laces and stood to look disapprovingly at Sherlock.

"Just trying to make a point." He screwed up his face and put a foot in. He looked at Molly and gestured to the laces. "I never got the hang of lacing up these things." That wasn't technically a lie. Right?

Molly sighed and kneeled down in front of Sherlock to tie laces. "If you make some sort of innuendo I'm going to take this lace and wrap it around your throat until you turn purple."

"Just knowing you're already thinking about it is enough." He smirked down at her. She cinched the laces causing Sherlock's smirk to turn into a grimace. Molly looked up at him triumphantly.

"Alright." Molly stood up and offered Sherlock a hand. He brushed it aside, determined to do this on his own. Once he was on his feet, Molly made her way toward the rink. Sherlock went to take a step forward and lost his balance. After steadying himself, he took one step, and another. He rocked on his skates, gaining confidence with each step. Molly's messy brown bun bobbed up and down in a crowd of people a few feet ahead. "Where ya going?" Sherlock Pivoted at the sound of Molly's voice. She was standing by the entrance looking at him quizzically. He did a quick double take and tried to hide his embarrassment, turning up his coat collar to hide the red coloring his cheeks. "You ready?" Molly looked at him excitedly.

Sherlock nodded and gestured for Molly to go first. She stepped onto the ice and skated along the wall until she was clear of the entrance. A few people pushed passed a very hesitant Sherlock and he clenched his jaw as he set a foot on the ice. It wasn't too bad. He placed his other foot on the ice and teetered a little bit. His knuckles grew white as he clenched the wall. Molly giggled as he tried to step forward. "It'll just take me a minute to warm up. You go on ahead." Molly shrugged and pushed forward. Sherlock watched in awe as she twirled and danced over the ice. An image of perfect grace and beauty.

Molly looked back at Sherlock, "Come on already." Sherlock let go of the wall and shakily pushed forward, looking at his feet. "Look at your toes, fall on your nose!" Molly skated past him. He looked up when she swooped back toward him. She laughed at the figure before her. Sherlock stood frozen, his arms forward and his feet slowly sliding out from under him. "You've never skated before, have you?"

"Well, no." Sherlock felt his feet slide but was too afraid to move. Molly laughed. "Teach me?" He looked at her with all the innocence and desperation he could muster.

Molly took his arm, "Of course."

~o.0.o~

"Alright, I'm going to let go of you now. You got this?" Molly lightened her grip on Sherlock's arm. He nodded. Molly let go and he went to push forward with one skate. He wobbled violently and one foot slipped forward, the other to the side. "Sherlock!" He grabbed at Molly and made contact with her arm, holding on for dear life. He fell. Hard. And he brought Molly down with him. "Sherlock." Molly huffed again.

"Ruined your perfect record did I?" Sherlock didn't even attempt to get up. He looked at their tangled legs.

"Just lucky neither of us gut cut." Molly examined her ankles, looking for any cuts the blades may have caused.

"Well…" Sherlock lifted up his pant leg and winced. There was a good-sized gash in his leg.

"Sherlock! Are you okay?! Let's get you home. We need to clean that up." Molly scrambled to get up.

"Molly, I'm okay. Stop stop stop. You're going to cut one of us again." Sherlock placed his hands on her shoulders. "I'm okay." Molly looked at him with slight panic in her eyes. He leaned forward and kissed her mouth softly, caressing her face. "I'm fine. I'm okay." He wiped tears off her cheeks he hadn't noticed forming. "What's wrong?"

Molly sobbed softly. "I'm sorry Sherlock. I just- I can't. I hurt you. I'm sorry I hurt you. I promised I would never- not again. Not after what I did to you. That phone call, and then I-" She hiccoughed.

"Hey," Sherlock lifted her chin until she finally made eye contact, "I'm okay." He stressed each syllable. He needed her to understand he was fine. Both now and in the past. "But maybe going home would be a good idea." Molly nodded and Sherlock went to untie her laces. The rink had emptied significantly over the last hour as the sun set.

They walked out of the rink in soaking wet socks and ice skates in their hands. Sherlock tried not to limp too much but Molly noticed anyways. "Do you want to get some food on the way home?" He wanted to get Molly's mind off his leg.

Molly shook her head, "We need to get you home and clean you up. I haven't seen it clearly yet, but it might need stitches. I can order takeaway while you're in the bath." Sherlock opened his mouth to protest. "You are taking a bath. You fell just about twenty times tonight and you'll be sore tomorrow."

"Not my prefered reason for being sore." Sherlock smirked and glanced at Molly, who was smiling slightly.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Sorry, again. It feels like all I'm doing is apologizing lately. Another trip. This one was planned but I still wasn't able to upload because I was smack-dab in the middle of nowhere. Anyways, here's a short little thing that'll hopefully hold you over for now.

Molly woke up to a mop of curly hair tickling her forehead. That was the best night's sleep she's had in awhile. With Sherlock, that is. He was still sound asleep which was a rare sight. She smiled and ran a hand through the inky curls that had taunted her from the moment she saw him. Molly's stomach made a disgruntled noise and she went to go make some breakfast for the two of them. As she went to slip away, the hold Sherlock had on her tightened. He scrunched up his face and pulled her back to his chest. Fighting a little harder, he finally relented.

Molly stood over him. This was the eighth time in a row she was going to make breakfast for him. _It's his turn. If he wants food, he'll have to get it himself._ Molly thought about waiting and having him make it for her too, but the noise in her stomach convinced her otherwise.

~o.0.o~

She walked back into the bedroom to find Sherlock in the same position he was in when she left. "Sherlock it's time to get up." Nothing. Molly walked over to him. "Wake up." Still nothing. She sighed and threw the blankets off him, exposing his plaid pajama pants. Sherlock grunted and curled up on his side. Molly sat down on the bed and rubbed his shoulder gently. "Sherlock. It's time to get up… sweetheart." She added that last bit hesitantly and cringed once she did. He didn't buy it and obviously didn't fall for it.

Molly snatched a pillow. "Alright get up!" Molly whacked him with the pillow. Sherlock moaned and put his hands up around his head. His memory foam pillow hurt. The pillow came down again. "Let's go. I know you're awake lazy butt. Get up." Sherlock managed to dodge the last hit.

"Sherlock!" Molly whined. "Come on. You're always waking me up at the most ungodly hours of the night. It's nine thirty now get. Up." She punctuated the last two words with a quick thwack to his head with the pillow. Still absolutely nothing. "You know what, I'm gonna go make another cup of coffee." Molly sighed and rubbed her face. "Do you want some. I'll make you some if you think it'll get you up." Sherlock nodded slightly and pulled the covers back over himself. Molly sauntered off, proud of herself for putting on a show even the great Sherlock Holmes couldn't see through.

~o.0.o~

Molly had decided to use the last weapon in her arsenal. The coffee maker beeped and She poured some in a mug. She took a sip and banged around in the kitchen a little bit, knowing Sherlock was listening. She walked into the bathroom and stripped down. Molly wrapped one of Sherlock's fluffy towels around her and snatched the pitcher of ice cold water from the sink. She sauntered back into the room, determined to ignore the curly-haired lump that started shifting around under the pile of blankets. "Sorry about the coffee, it wasn't very good." Molly bent over slightly, rifling through some drawers. "I think I left my brush in here, have you seen it?" Sherlock didn't respond but she knew he was watching her. "Must still be asleep." Molly muttered just loud enough for him to hear. She stretched and let the towel slip before catching it right above her bum. "Good thing too." She walked around the bed and opened another drawer. "Oh! I left it in the living room." She finally looked back at Sherlock. "I was hoping to take a shower with you but you're asleep so I guess I'm just talking to myself now." She giggled slightly.

Sherlock threw off the blanket, "Oh God Molly!" Molly turned with a wicked smile and dumped the water right on the large bulge forming at his crotch. "What the-!"

"That's why you get up when I say so. Now go make some breakfast and we can re-visit this shower business." She winked at him and walked out of the room, leaving a soaking Sherlock gaping after her. Molly applauded herself and ran into the bathroom before he could hear her laughing.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I'm working on another story so you'll have to be patient(I know, I know, you've already been extremely patient) and know I might end up putting this story on hiatus for a while. By the way, I may or may not have put a Black Widow reference in here. Please review!

* * *

Molly loved their walks. She could rarely ever get Sherlock to go on a purely romantic walk. Most of the time their "walks" included Sherlock dragging her by the hand as they ran through the streets either chasing someone or being chased.

She looked around at the fountains bubbling and children playing. The sun was shining and a light breeze was playing with her hair. This was the most peaceful she's felt in a long time.

Sherlock sighed and groaned, interrupting the peace. "This is so boring Molly. Can't we just go home now."

Molly put her head on his shoulder. "Alright fine. Thank you for putting aside your case for me. I really appreciate it." She smiled up at him and they made their way back to 221B.

~o.0.o~

Sherlock's phone chimed as the walked up to the flat.

 **Downloading…**

It was an unknown number with a California area code. The phone chimed again and a picture popped up. Sherlock hissed as he looked at the picture of him and Molly out on their walk.

 **Looks like you've got yourself a new toy. But do you really think she'll be able to replace James?**

No initials. "Are you gonna come inside? You seemed pretty adamant about it at the park." Molly leaned against the doorframe.

"Get inside. Now."

"Wh-" Sherlock didn't give her time to ask why. He turned her around and pushed her in, slamming the door behind him. "What was that all about?"

He whirled around to face her, "Somebody's watching us. Or, rather, they're watching you."

"Why me?" Molly tried not to seem scared, but Sherlock could see her slight tremble.

"I'm not a hundred percent sure yet, but it has something to do with Moriarty."

"But I thought he was dead!"

"He is, but there must still be one or two contacts from his network out there. And one of them has set their sights on you. I don't know how dangerous he is yet, but you'll have to stay here where I can keep an eye on you. I'll have Mycroft send over Anthea when I go out on cases. I know how you two get along."

"Yet she still refuses to tell me her real name."

"Not even Mycroft knows. It's because she grew up in Russia being trained to be an assassin. Dreadfully horrible past. Worse than mine, if you can imagine. Although the skill set she acquired is rather impressive. Well worth it if you ask me. Then again, I don't have all the details of her upbringing. She got shipped out to the British government twelve years ago along with a few other women when she showed little promise of being a cold-hearted assassin. An affair with one of the sons of the headmistress I believe. She was assigned to be Mycroft's protection ten years ago and before that worked as a receptionist at some sort of secret squirrel society the government put together. Needless to say it fell to shambles because no one on this planet is able to keep a secret longer than two hours. They've got to go and write it down in their diary or tell one person who tells another who tells an-"

"Sherlock. You could've stopped at 'Not even Mycroft knows.'"

"Right. Anyways, where was I? Oh yes, you'll be staying here."

Molly quirked an eyebrow. "You sure this isn't some elaborate scheme to get me in your bed?"

"Well I wouldn't call this an elaborate scheme and you could certainly sleep in John's old bed even though mine's far more comfortable."

"Sex Sherlock, I meant you're not trying to have sex with me."

"Oh, that, no."

"Good. Alright then, I guess I'm staying here."

~o.0.o~

Molly closed the door behind Anthea. Sherlock would be home in a few minutes, he had just texted her that he had wrapped up his latest case and would pick up some food on the way home. _"I'll be fine for ten minutes. You can go and pack for your holiday."_ She had said to Anthea once she relayed his text to her. _"Alright, but I'm not sure this counts as a holiday. I'm escorting Mycroft to Tahiti on business."_ _Anthea laughed, "Although, I haven't heard of many business meetings taking place at a beach resort." Molly ushered her out the door and Anthea practically skipped down the hall and took the stairs two at a time all the while laughing like a schoolgirl._ Molly shook her head, what she saw in Mycroft would always be a mystery to her. She deserved it though. Molly sat down with a soda and put on the movie Sherlock had jammed in the DVD player trying to get it out. He couldn't stand movies where people break out into song, but she couldn't not watch this one. Disney's new movie had every one of her friends raving so she sat back and watched Moana for the fourth time.

~o.0.o~

A loud knock interrupted Molly's dancing. Dancing over to the door while "You're Welcome" played, she laughed at the thought of Sherlock's face when he found her watching the movie again. He doesn't see the point in watching a movie more than once. She opened the door to find not Sherlock with a look of exasperated confusion, but two burly men frowning at her. One with a gun and one with a rope. "How can I help you." Molly trembled, hoping they were clients.

"You're comin' wit us." Said the man with the gun.

"Oh, are you from Jersey?" Molly squeaked. She didn't know what else to say.

"California."

"Move!" Barked the other man. "Hands behind your head let's go" Molly did as she was told and marched down the hall between the two men, the gun pointed at her head.

Molly took a deep breath and sorted through her many many years of self-defence she picked up. Deep breath in. _One…_ Deep breath out. _Two…_ She squeezed her eyes shut. _Three!_ Molly's eyes snapped open and she turned around, hitting the gun with her elbow and knocking it out of the man's hand. She heard the gun shoot but didn't feel any pain so she kept going, bringing up her knee and hitting the man in the crotch. He yelped and she used his dazed state to punch his in the cheek and sweep his leg out from under him. She turned to face the other man to find him crumpled on the ground. The bullet had hit his leg and caused him to fall and hit his head on the banister.

"What the hell! You were alone for fifteen minutes!" Sherlock stood in the doorway looking at the bodies on the floor. "You did this?" Molly nodded. "I am incredibly turned on right now." He dropped the bag of food and strode up the stairs to prove his statement.

After a quick make-out session, Molly came up for air. "We need to call the police."

"Already did, we've got seven minutes."

"Well then by all means continue."


End file.
